


Have You Checked The Tavern?

by fideliant



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:35:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fideliant/pseuds/fideliant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a matter of fact, Arthur has. And it just so happens that for the first time, Merlin actually is there. Not that either of them are complaining afterwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have You Checked The Tavern?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [demosthenes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/demosthenes/gifts).



> Happy birthday, dear! You already know you're the best.

The door burst open and a tall figure in a blue cloak whirled inside, though none of the patrons took any notice of the new customer. Not that they would, what with the spectacle occupying the centre of the tavern with ale sloshed down his shirt and a dozen pieces of hay sticking out of his dark, thick hair. “Another round for my mates,” Merlin roared, swinging his tankard in a wonky, misdirected arc, nearly catching one of the tavern’s regulars in the face.

A cheer erupted and rolled around the room like a wave. The only person who didn’t join in was the cloaked figure, a string of golden-blond hair peeking out from beneath his hood.

The stranger made his way to the main counter, where Merlin was now folded over with his face plied against the rough wood. With a grunt, Merlin turned to assess the newcomer. “Who’re you?” he mumbled.

Without a word, the person seized Merlin by the collar of his tunic — “Ow, hey, hey, ow, what the hell!” Merlin squawked — and started dragging him in the direction of the back rooms.

“Oi, oi!” the barkeep called out crossly. “He’s not going anywhere until he’s settled the bill, see!”

A single gold coin flipped through the air and landed spinning on the counter. The barkeep looked at it with widening eyes, but when he glanced back to find Merlin and his acquaintance, they had both disappeared.

 

 

 

A deluge of icy water on his head left Merlin sputtering and flummoxed on the floor. He scrambled to his hands and knees, looking around wildly, and promptly smacked the side of his head into a bed frame. “Ow,” Merlin gasped, palming the site of impact with one hand and massaging it.

“Ah, good! You’re up.” A bucket smacked Merlin on his bum.

Still very, very dizzy, Merlin squinted up at the figure standing over him. His hood was down, but Merlin still could not see much of his face, the back room they were in being rather poorly-lit. Before he could ask anything else, there were arms under his, hoisting him unceremoniously to his feet. Merlin gave an indignant shout and shoved in retaliation, catching whoever it was in the chest and sending him staggering backward.

“Merlin!” Without knowing exactly how it happened, Merlin was against the wall, both arms locked painfully behind his back. The awfully familiar voice was saying into his ear now, “Listen to me now and you listen carefully. You will come back to the castle right this instant, or I might just happen to remember that you did that to me.”

“A — A — Arthur?” Merlin gasped, blinking to bring his vision back into focus. The king’s face slowly became clearer, though still distorted by the trick of the light on top of inebriation.

“That’s right. Me.” He gave Merlin’s arms another meaningful twist, and Merlin winced.

“What — what are you doing here?”

Arthur rolled his eyes and released Merlin. “Gaius said you’d be here, not that I needed him to tell me.”

“Gaius?” Merlin glowered at Arthur, massaging his wrists where Arthur had held him. His head began to throb again and he put his hands at his temples, moaning as the world tilted and swayed around him.

Arthur’s look could not have been the furthest thing from sympathy. He snorted in annoyance. “Perhaps you’ll think twice about sneaking out to the tavern next time, won’t you?”

Merlin peered at Arthur curiously. “You’re wearing a cloak. You’re wearing your cloak.”

“Very astute, Merlin,” Arthur said, straightening out his clothes. “The king of Camelot can hardly be seen patronising the tavern.”

“But you’re not here to patronise the tavern,” Merlin blurted. “You’re here for me, aren’t you?”

An unamused smile crept over Arthur’s face. “Unfortunately.”

“All the way down from the castle,” Merlin murmured softly, touching his lips with the fingers on one hand. “Just for me.”

“Just for you,” Arthur said with every possible hint of sarcasm.

Swallowing, Merlin looked up and down Arthur’s state of dress with hazy eyes. “That looks nice on you,” he slurred. “Your cloak.”

Arthur’s expression turned to one of surprise. “I — well, I suppose it does.”

“I’ve thought that a long while, actually. It suits you. Matches your eyes.”

The surprise turned a tad bit to discomfort. “Thanks. I think.”

Merlin began a slow, purposeful approach, a slight roll in the way he walked toward Arthur. Arthur took a step back. “Merlin.”

He didn’t reply to that, continuing his advance until they were standing nearly face-to-face, Arthur’s shins pressing into the mattress of the cot. “Merlin, what on earth are you doing?” Arthur asked, his voice lightening.

Merlin swallowed, close enough to smell Arthur’s own breath. He smelled like morning training and fine dining and _king,_ just kingly, there being no other way to describe it. “Your eyes,” he whispered, then dipped his face forward to brush his lips against Arthur’s. “Do you know exactly how beautiful they are?”

A sharp breath sliced past Arthur’s teeth. “I have my estimates,” he hissed tightly, putting his palms on Merlin’s chest to put just a bit of distance between them. Merlin pushed forward, undeterred, and kissed him again with much more depth and tenderness than the first time. “Merlin,” Arthur said, intending for it to come out as a warning, and he wondered why it only sounded so desperately needy.

“Arthur.” Merlin’s hand went lower, pushing aside the folds of the king’s cloak and finding the lip of his trousers. He saw no sign of protest on Arthur’s face, and so slid a hand inside, rubbing his palm gently against his lower abdomen. “Good thing I make you take all those baths,” Merlin said drunkenly.

“Yeah?” Arthur moved his arms up to hold Merlin by his shoulders, turning quickly into a shallow sort of hug, and he kissed Merlin on his chin. “For you or for me?”

“Both,” Merlin replied, just as he edged his fingers even lower and wrapped them around Arthur’s slightly-hard length.

 _“Oh —”_ His mouth fell open and Merlin had to kiss his nose instead, accenting his gesture with a quick stroke upward along Arthur’s cock. Merlin jerked his arm down to free Arthur of his meddlesome breeches, and slid all the way down again to his base, pressing his thumb between his bollocks. Arthur let his forehead fall against Merlin’s face, and he felt Merlin’s breath in his hair, slow but quickly rising as his hands moved faster.

Arthur felt one of Merlin’s finger sink into his slit, and then a slippery, wet sensation worked over his expanding shaft with his leakage spread all over by Merlin’s shifting grip, and _goodness_ Merlin had such able hands — must have been all the manual labour, which Arthur was suddenly rather grateful for having Merlin do. Must have been, never mind that his skin really should be less smooth than that, especially with _oh fuck_ and he could feel his cock throbbing obscenely, now at fullness in Merlin’s tireless hand as Merlin murmured words too soft to be heard. He gave his hips a few tentative thrusts, his hands gripping Merlin’s shoulders as hard as he had when he pinned him to the wall. Merlin met this with an increase in the tempo of his strokes, developing a sweet, beautiful concert with the movements of his hand and Arthur’s body.

“Fucking — oh, god,” Arthur moaned contentedly, driving his hips up again as Merlin twisted his ringed fingers down. _“God,_ Merlin.”

“Sire,” Merlin mumbled, his eyes wide and unbelieving on Arthur’s stiff flesh in his rapidly working hand. He was uncomfortably hard himself, but when he reached to push down his own trousers, Arthur’s hand shot down to capture his wrist.

“No,” Arthur said quietly, his mouth close to Merlin’s ear. He flicked out his tongue and touched Merlin’s pink earlobe with the tip, tasting dirt and sweat and, weirdly, a little bit of soap. “Let me.” He pulled his gloves off and shoved his bare hands deep into Merlin’s pants, such that he had Merlin’s arm trapped between his own. With both hands now on Merlin’s cock, he sank his grip down, bringing his fingers to a pleasantly tight ring at the base. He started to yank upward, slowly and deliberately, a motion into which Arthur bucked his groin. The angle he had on Merlin was perfect, and when he gave another long tug, Merlin leaned forward and against him.

“Almost,” Arthur gasped against his cheek, his hold on Merlin’s erection faltering with trembles. “Almost…almost…”

Another slick glide of flesh on flesh had Arthur jerking and groaning, his come pulsing out from beneath Merlin’s fingers. He mashed his mouth into Merlin’s shoulder and exhaled noisily, concentration momentarily lost until he felt Merlin sliding back and forth between his palms and he revived their movements.

“Good?” Merlin breathed into his ear, kissing whatever was exposed of his neck. His hand remained on Arthur’s softening cock, playing his finger pads over the head.

Still unable to conjure the words, Arthur nodded on his shoulder. He moved his hands faster, stroking Merlin with gusto and smiled at hearing his shattered gasps.

“Arthur — _Arthur!”_

“Good,” Arthur managed to get out, punctuating the word with a two-handed rub from base to head, and he felt Merlin’s cock twitch and his fingers became enveloped in thick, liquid warmth. Unable to keep standing, Arthur sank onto the bed, Merlin following suit on top of him.

They lay there in a mess of half-shed clothing and stickiness, their hands still refusing to release each other. “You let go,” Arthur droned, giving his hips a feeble shake.

“No, you let go,” Merlin muttered. His fingers were still moving about absently on Arthur in delicate, useless pulls.

Arthur snorted. “I suppose we’ll just stay here, then. Until someone else finds us like this.”

“The door’s locked.”

“Funny. I don’t remember either of us locking it.”

“It’s locked,” Merlin said, his voice treading a fine line between overconfidence and assurance. He ground his body a little against Arthur, driving an oof from him.

“I can sort of see why you come here all the time,” Arthur mused, thumping the back of his head against the straw mattress.

“I don’t come here all the time.”

“Yeah, right.” Arthur’s eyes moved to find Merlin’s, the look in them soft and knowing. “How long now?”

Merlin bit his lip in an expression that Arthur found strangely endearing. “I dunno. Maybe since Ealdor. You didn’t have to do that for me. But you did.”

“Ealdor, huh?” He continued to look up at Merlin, a cocky smile working over his lips. “Should’ve known it was a bad idea to go.”

“Was it?”

“No.” Arthur leaned up just enough to kiss the corner of Merlin’s mouth. He lay back down and made a huffing sound. “You do realise what this means, don’t you?”

Merlin grinned, licking his plump, kiss-swollen lips. “I get to go to the tavern more often?”

Arthur feigned consideration for a few seconds, then pulled one hand off Merlin to thwack him playfully on his head. “No, Merlin. That’s what I’ve got a royal bedchamber for. You can clean up afterwards.”

Merlin turned his laugh into an amused snicker, closing his eyes with his head over Arthur’s chest. “Of course, sire.”


End file.
